


Diffindo

by SilverySparks



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Awkwardness, Drarry, First Kiss, M/M, Oneshot, excuses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-23
Updated: 2016-01-23
Packaged: 2018-05-15 20:15:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5798479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverySparks/pseuds/SilverySparks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco and Harry could never stop to chat in public, so they have to be creative with excuses to be alone...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Diffindo

“Why do we even have to learn about Quintapeds?“ Ron complained. “It’s not like we’re ever gonna meet one!”

They were walking back to the castle after their Care of Magical Creatures lesson. Professor Grubbly-Plank had had them map the skeleton of these hairy five-legged creatures, a task that not just Ron considered pointless. Only Hermione disagreed as usual.

“This isn’t about knowing the animal, Ron,” she said exasperatedly. “The case of the Quintapeds is supposed to teach us the dangers of rash wizard’s duels, a lesson you certainly need!”

Ron shrugged uncomfortably as he, too, remembered a rather unpleasant night in their first year when he and Harry had planned on duelling Draco Malfoy. “If we hadn’t had to run from Filch, we’d never have found out about Fluffy, and You-Know-Who would have the Philosopher’s Stone!” he defended himself. “So it was a good thing we accepted Malfoy’s challenge, wasn’t it, Harry?”

Harry wasn’t listening. He was feeling a rather pleasant prickling sensation running down his spine, which could only mean one thing. He resisted the urge to turn around.

“Harry?” Ron prompted impatiently.

“What? Yeah,” Harry replied absentmindedly while trying to catch a glance of the person behind him without turning his head. “Of course, it would have been better if Draco had actually- ouch!” He had forgotten to mind his feet and landed sprawling in the damp grass.

“Watch it, Potter,” a clear voice called out behind him, and a foot caught in his cloak. Harry winced as Draco Malfoy yanked at his robes trying to free his foot, lost his balance, and fell facedown into a couple of thistles.

Ron laughed, but Harry lay still, his face wet with dew. Malfoy’s foot was still tangled in Harry’s robes, and his legs rested across Harry’s back. He didn’t feel like moving.

“You tore his bag, you bumbling idiot,” Ron spat at Malfoy, bending down to pick up Harry’s belongings.

“Leave it,” Harry mumbled through a mouthful of grass. “You’d better go ahead and tell Flitwick why I’m late.” The school bell rang and reinforced Harry’s point.

“I think he’s right, Ron,” Hermione said. “You’re not hurt, Harry, are you?”

“Of course not,” Harry said, “I just tripped! Now go! – Or you’ll get detention,” he added, not wanting to seem too eager to be rid of their company. And finally, they left.

Harry buried his face in the grass, not daring to look up. He felt Malfoy move as the boy gently untangled his foot.

“Are you alright, Harry?” he asked softly.

Harry sat up, keeping his eyes to the ground. “You’re the one who fell into the thistles,” he mumbled. His eyes fell on his bag. It was torn to shreds. “How did you manage that?” he asked. He couldn’t see how falling over could turn a bag into rags.

“ _Diffindo_ is a useful spell,” Malfoy replied shrewdly. Harry could hear a faint grin in his voice. Malfoy had torn his bag with a spell? Had he just wanted to be mean or had he- A thought crossed Harry’s mind. Startled, he looked up – and saw that Malfoy was bending over him, his face only inches from Harry’s. Both of them drew back hastily. Malfoy’s cheeks had turned slightly pink, but the blond boy continued to look into Harry’s eyes with an expression that made Harry shiver. Blushing, he turned to reassemble his belongings.

Malfoy beat him there. As they both reached for a scroll of parchment, his hands met Harry’s. Harry couldn’t help noticing how beautiful they were. Pale and slender, with long, elegant fingers and the soft, creamy skin of someone who’d never even cleaned his own room. For Harry, these hands spoke of innocence. Malfoy had never fought, had never bled, had never faced Voldemort. Harry had. Malfoy was just a boy, and yet there was something about him… something predatory, mysterious, something that sent a wave of heat through the insides of Harry’s bones. It was a challenge, and Harry didn’t think he could handle it.

And yet. Hadn’t he always been afraid, doubting himself and his abilities? Hadn’t he mastered all his challenges so far?

With a sudden rush of determination, Harry looked up into Draco’s eyes. The boy smiled and raised one eyebrow. “Flitwick?” he asked sarcastically.

“Who cares?” Harry replied and brought up his lips to meet Malfoy’s.


End file.
